The Forgotten
by La Guera
Summary: Everyone hates Michael. Everyone but a long-forgotten sister. Takes places concurrently with Halloween I and II
1. Default Chapter

NOTE: I do not own, and am not profiting from, the Halloween characters. I do own Macie Myers.  
  
Macie Alexandra Myers sat quietly at her small wooden writing desk in her room at the Haddonfield School for the Disabled. The tiny blonde girl did not look eighteen. The wheelchair in which she sat engulfed her. Years of institution life had made her thin and wan. The doctors and nurses called her the China Doll because she looked so fragile.  
  
Whatever may have been wrong with her body, it did not affect her mind. According to all the psychological and intelligence testing that had been done, her mind was a cunning machine, a steel trap, from which no knowledge, once acquired, ever escaped. Had the circumstances been different, she might have one day gone to Harvard. But the circumstances were not different, and so she was here instead. And she hated it.  
  
It was no secret why she was here. After her brother went berserk and killed her oldest sister, Judy, her grief-stricken mother had lost all interest in caring for her other children. They had been left to fend for themselves while their mother wallowed in her grief. Their father was no better, drowning himself in drink. When they were killed in a car accident, no one was surprised. Her older sister, Laurie, too young too care for a five-year old with cerebral palsy, was eventually adopted by the wealthy Strode family, but they hadn't wanted Macie. They never said why, but she knew it was because the Strodes didn't want to be saddled with "damaged goods." She was placed here by the state pending adoption, but that day never came, so she grew up here.  
  
As she grew older, she began to ask about the whereabouts of her older brother. No one had wanted to tell her, but finally a sympathetic cleaning woman had let it slip that he was at the Haddonfield Hospital for the Criminally Insane. She tried writing him but had never received any answer. Maybe they never taught him to read or write there. She missed him. They had played only with each other growing up, as if they understood that they were both different. She doubted she would ever see him again, though. The newspapers said he'd butchered Judy, and his kind would never be let free.  
  
Outside her room, the noises of the school/hospital sounded the familiar routine medications and bed checks. A med-cart rolled by, trumpeting its passage with a grating squeak. A moment later, the steel door to her room opened, and pleasant-faced Nurse Janice popped her head in.  
  
"Don't stay up too late, Macie," she chided, "you've got graduation practice tomorrow."  
  
"I won't," she said, smiling sweetly. She would be graduating from the high school division in three days. Damn diploma probably isn't worth the paper it'll be written on, she thought bitterly.  
  
"Goodnight," said the nurse, closing the door behind her.  
  
She was almost in bed a few hours later when she first heard the sound, a small tapping on the window. She turned to look but saw nothing, only the dark night sky. She pivoted her chair back toward the bed and pulled the covers back. It came again, louder and more insistent. Curious, she rolled to the window and pressed her face against the cool glass.  
  
Nothing. No, not exactly nothing. Something round and white floating out of the darkness. A face. She recoiled in momentary shock, but soon peered out again. The face was still there staring back at her. Who was it? Was it some pervert hoping to see her naked? If it was, he certainly didn't seem disappointed that she wasn't. In fact, he seemed to waiting for her. She had no friends beyond the antiseptic walls of this hospital, so who could it be? She looked into the eyes behind the mask, searching.  
  
Recognition came in a rush, filling her with giddy excitement. Her brother had come to take her away from this place. She written to him endlessly, pleading for him to rescue her, but he never had. She thought he couldn't understand her, but she was wrong. He was here now, and he would make everything alright. She pulled frantically at the window, but it had long ago been nailed shut.  
  
"I can't open it," she cried in disappointment.  
  
The figure slowly raised his hand and motioned her away from the window. She smiled. Her brother was going to break her out! She moved away from the window and covered her face seconds before the glass exploded inward and her brother began his methodical climb through the window. Her face broke into a radiant grin and she opened her arms wide in joyous greeting.  
  
"Michael," she said. 


	2. Chasing the Beast

Pandemonium reigned at the sanitarium. Police cars and ambulances crammed into every available parking space and even onto the grass. Shouts and cries rang out as orderlies tried desperately to round up and calm all the escaped inmates. Police officers scoured the grounds looking for any clue as to where the infamous Michael Myers might have gone. The excited bays of the police bloodhounds pierced the night air, their howls blended with the screams of those insane beyond redemption.  
  
In the midst of this maelstrom stood Dr. Samuel Loomis, a balding man in his early forties. For fifteen years, he'd been Michael Myers' doctor, self-appointed guardian of the damned. For all these years, he'd kept a silent vigil, forsaking all of his other patients and hobbies so that he could be sure the gates of this one-man hell would remain forever closed. But he had not been vigilant enough, because now the monster was out, seeking to finish what he had begun.  
  
He sighed as he picked through the remains of what had been Myers cell. Two crumpled bodies lay on either side of the doorway, blood pooling in the threshold. A trail of gore on the wall behind the bodies bespoke the violence with which the men's heads had been bashed against the wall. The ruins of their skulls lolled on their broken necks, bulging eyes staring at him accusingly. But it was the word on the door that held his attention.  
  
He stepped gingerly over one of the bodies and reached out to touch the single word. The blood it had been written it was tacky, but not yet dry. SISTER, it read in a large, childish scrawl. Michael never had much penmanship practice. He could've used even a dull pencil to gouge out the eyes or brains of his wardens. It was amazing he'd been able to write this well, all things considered. So, Michael, he mused, you're going after her, aren't you? You're going to try and kill her, to finish what you started all those years ago. I can't let you do that, Michael. You've already taken my life; I won't let you take Laurie's, too.  
  
As he turned to go, he bumped into the imposing Dr. Wynn, the chief psychiatrist at Smith's Grove: Haddonfield Sanitarium for the Criminally Insane.  
  
"Dammit, Wynn," roared Loomis, "how could you let this happen?"  
  
"We thought he was catatonic," he shot back. "It came out of nowhere."  
  
"How many times have I told you to beware of his treachery, his cunning? And now because of your carelessness and ignorance, the devil walks the streets among the unsuspecting innocents!"  
  
Wynn was about to reply when a fat orderly came running, a piece of yellow legal paper crushed in one sweaty palm. "Dr. Loomis, Dr. Loomis," he wheezed, thrusting the ravaged paper in his face," we got a call from the Haddonfield School for the Disabled. One of their patients has been abducted."  
  
"Who?" he asked, his mouth suddenly feeling very dry. An answer was already surfacing in his mind  
  
The orderly studied the paper for a moment. "A girl named Macie Alexandra Myers."  
  
"Dear God," he breathed, and ran for the door. 


	3. Enough for the Both of Them

Sam Loomis drummed his fingers nervously on his worn vinyl steering wheel as he drove toward the ramshackle Myers house located in a quiet suburb on the east side of Haddonfield. He knew he was driving too fast, but he couldn't help it; the car seemed to be trying to keep up with the myriad of thoughts that were churning in his brain. On the radio, the golden oldies station was playing "Twist and Shout," and he turned it off with an irritated snap.  
  
Christ, how could he have forgotten about her? He hadn't forgotten exactly, he supposed. He'd just been overconfident that Michael hadn't known about her. Yet somehow he had. All this time, behind those cold black eyes, he had been thinking, waiting. Waiting for the right moment. Tonight it had come. He cursed his own complacency.  
  
Macie. He had only met her once when she was nine years old. A small, fragile little girl with a bright smile. She hadn't known who he was, hadn't understood why he was there. To her, he was just another doctor who wanted to poke and prod her. She suffered him quietly. There wasn't much about her that he remembered. But there were two things he did remember quite clearly. Her eyes had been the same murky black as her brother's. Unsettling specks of coal in a white moon face. Looking at them made the spit in his mouth go sour. Her smile calmed him, though. It gave her pallid face a spark of intelligence and sad beauty.  
  
The other thing he remembered was something she had said to him just before he left that day. He'd knelt down in front of her wheelchair so that his face was at eye level. Patting her bony shoulder, he'd said, "Remember now, Macie, Michael ever tries to contact you, you mustn't answer him. He's very dangerous. Understand?"  
  
She'd nodded at him, and he'd turned to go. But then she'd said something, something that had made him freeze in his tracks. Her voice was so soft and low, that at first he was sure he'd even heard it, but he had.  
  
"Michael won't hurt me because we're both different. I'm broken, too. I'm not afraid."  
  
He'd slowly turned to stare at her. Her eyes met his with calm assurance, smiling innocently up at him. A cold fear suddenly crushed his spine. He turned and fled. He never went back. Now those words echoed in his ears. I'm broken, too. I'm not afraid.  
  
God help him, he was terrified. He'd be afraid for both of them. 


End file.
